it was never a choice, not really
by Jackson Harper
Summary: A choice had needed to be made, and make it she did. Now all she has to do is execute her will, and hope she can live with herself. Pydia, Jydia. Angst, Character Death.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Teen Wolf.

She lay beside him, auburn locks splayed across her pillow, the silk cool and fitted against the soft flesh of her skin. Her breathes were coming out slow and even, and she was calm despite the fact she knew what she was about to do.

Fingers curling around the arm that had curled around waist, she gently removed it so as not to disturb him. Wrapping herself in a blanket, so that the cool night air wouldn't freeze her, she padded softly across the room, and into their bathroom.

Admiring herself in the bathroom mirror, Lydia wiped at the salty trails that were left on her cheeks, trails that she hadn't noticed earlier. He must have noticed though, it was impossible for him to have not to, yet he never said anything.

_Did you really think he would?_ Lydia mentally questioned herself. _Peter has never really shown that much interest in your personal life, why would he start now?_

It was true he hadn't; the look you get when someone won't stop talking about how cute there child is, that's the look he had whenever she mentioned anything that was going on in her life, and if she was to be honest with herself, at the time, she was okay with that. He was still there when she needed comfort, and he did take care of her in his own way.

It was no longer enough now, _he _was no longer enough. She wanted, no needed more, and all it had taken her to realize that was a familiar face._Jackson_.

Seeing Jackson again made her realize how much she missed him; missed the way his eyes gazed into her own like she was his everything, missed the tender feel of his lips as they moved rhythmically against her own, missed the way the flesh of his palms ghosted over her arms-sending tingling sensations all over her body.

She knew that he was all she wanted; that he could give her everything she could ever need. Jackson could give her everything she'd ever dreamed of; all she had to do first was get rid of Peter.

As much as she'd like to, she couldn't just walk away; he wouldn't let her. She was his property, as far as he was concerned, and he would follow her anywhere to bring her back. It was something he wouldn't allow her to forget.

She'd never be free as long as his heart was still pounding in his chest, and so he needed to be taken care of, for her life to begin with Jackson.

Slipping back into their bedroom, she let the blanket sliver down her body into a heap on the floor; she wouldn't be needing it any longer; it'd only be an unwanted distraction.

She silently stalked across the length of the room, careful not to make a sound in case she awoke him from his slumber, her bedside dresser being her destination. Carefully opening the draw, she removed herself a dagger from it; a gift it had been, from Peter himself. He'd given it her for if there was ever a time when he wasn't around her, and she needed to protect herself. If only he had known that he'd be the first victim of the blade, well, he may have reconsidered then.

Her body shifted itself onto the bed, as she moved to straddle his waist, it would make it all easier. As her thighs clamped around his waist, she felt him stir ever so slightly, his calloused hands rising to latch onto her thighs. The feel of them there, though once enticing, now left her with nothing but disgust in the pit of her stomach.

She noticed his eyes beginning to flutter, ever so slightly, and the realization that she only had one shot at the this almost overwhelmed her, save for the fact that she knew she had to act fast.

Raising her arm, she swiftly jerked it to the side, the edge of the blade tearing through his throat. He spluttered, the blood not only pooling in his mouth, but gurgling on his throat, sliding down his windpipe to fill up his lungs. She leapt up off of his body, her fingers already a sticky crimson. She wasn't done; there was still a chance he could heal. Raising her arms once more, she plunged the dagger into his chest, twisting it as it entered.

She made her choice, she was free of him now. She just hoped that she could live with herself


End file.
